Sometimes It’s The Little Things

I helped my daughter move from the Grand Canyon to Bozeman, MT outside Yellowstone this week. I followed in her car while she drove a U-Haul across 4 states with her life inside. Once again, I couldn’t help but think that her dad should be here so I had a little chat with him to stay close.

As we entered into Page, AZ I got a little choked up. The last time we were all there her father was in remission. Pulling out of town, a hawk flew between our vehicles. If I didn’t know better I would swear he could see me when he looked right down toward me through the windshield.

The next day in Idaho I had to open the windows and keep sipping water to fight off a wave of panic. There is no current reason to be that stressed out except that, again, he should be here. As we dropped out of a mountain range into a valley, The Valley by k.d. lang came up on my iPod. That song sustained me and in that place with the sunset casting a warm glow on the mountains, I heard it in a new way. I really felt like he was with us.
But sometimes I doubt theses signs, you know? Dismiss them. I didn’t find any dimes though, I thought. That’s one that happens pretty frequently when something significant is happening. Sometimes I feel like he’s telling me “pay attention to this moment” when they appear. Surely, this would be an event I should pay attention to, right? But no dimes.

At last, we unloaded her possessions into storage before setting off to hunt for apartments. As I was taking one last look around the empty truck to see if we needed to sweep it out, there it was on the floor, the dime. No other change, just one single dime.